Wild Wolf

Graham’s shirt landed next to her on the grass. He settled in behind her, covering her back with his large, hot body. He positioned himself at her opening, his tip touching her.

“I’m not sure I can,” she said, sucking in a breath. “You’re . . . big.”

“Yes,” Graham stroked her hair, his body warming hers. “But you can.”

“I’m not a Shifter.”

“I know. I love that about you.” Graham laughed softly, as though to himself, and then he was pushing inside her.

Misty gulped air, all her muscles tightening. No, he couldn’t. She couldn’t. Another breath, and Graham slid in another inch.

He stroked her hair, then her back, making soothing noises. “Take me, Misty. Be mine.”

Misty took another deep breath, and then she relaxed. Her body opened, and Graham slid straight into her heat.

“That’s it,” Graham’s voice went quiet, the gravel turning to velvet. “Goddess, you’re good. Tight. Yes.”

Misty closed her eyes and groaned as he started to thrust. In this position, she felt only him, and all thought dissolved. Nothing existed but Graham, thick and hard inside her, the night, the grass prickling her hands and knees.

He went faster, hands on her back, beautiful friction. His legs were strong against hers, his rhythm even, unceasing.

Misty heard cries coming out of her mouth, floating to the sky to echo against the moon. Dimly she realized others would hear, but she couldn’t stop. What Graham did was so intense, so right, and her mouth wanted to let the world know her pleasure.

She grabbed his shirt from the ground and pressed it to her mouth, letting the cloth muffle the sounds. It didn’t dampen all the noise Misty was making, and Graham laughed at her.

“Sweet, sweet woman. We’ll go up into the woods and do this all night, and you’ll scream as much as you want to.”

Yes. Misty pressed back to him, wanting more. Graham kept up his thrusts, harder and faster. He held her, covering her with his warmth, his rumbling voice soothing.

Misty had no idea what he said, but she loved his voice, clung to the sound. It rolled over her like a warm wave, lifting her into the greatest pleasure.

More waves caught her, these of her coming apart. She dropped the shirt, bunching it in her fist on the ground as she supported herself against his onslaught. She heard her own voice, low and needy, Oh, yes, Graham. Please. I love it. I love you.

“You’re beautiful, Misty,” Graham whispered. “So f**king beautiful. Damn it.” His words wound into a tight groan, and he hung on, his fingers hard on her soft flesh.

He kept thrusting as Misty held herself up, gasping, laughing, groaning. Everything was slippery and hot, wild and bright.

“Goddess.” Graham rocked back, fists light on Misty’s back, coming into her one last time.

Misty wriggled back on him, loving the tight fit, the heat, the crazy feeling. Then Graham fell onto her, bracing himself to keep from crushing her. He took her down onto the grass, and gathered her back into him, still joined with her.

Graham kissed her face, her lips, her hair, arms wrapping around her. “Damn,” he said, and laughed. “That was f**king wonderful.”

“Yes,” Misty said, snuggling happily back into him. “Wonderful.”

A lovely feeling. Misty hugged it to her as she held on to Graham, letting herself bask in the moment. Graham and the moonlight shining on her, on her garden, on the flowers around them. Misty snuggled back into him, bringing his hard hand up to her mouth to kiss it.

She’d been made for this night, she decided. And Misty was going to enjoy every last second of it.

 • • •

Graham gazed down at Misty lying in her bed, exhausted after another round of lovemaking. He’d carried her in here, she already half-asleep. Xavier had decided to be discreet and guard the front, so Misty hadn’t been embarrassed to be carried through the house, their clothes piled in a little heap on top of her.

She’d drifted off after their last time, but Graham didn’t sleep.

He’d gone for days without sleeping before, but this was the longest time he’d lasted without true rest. Shifter wolves could lie in the sun and soak up warmth, relaxing to the point of sleep, but still being alert.

Now Graham was afraid even to doze. He knew with every dream, Oison grew closer, and he couldn’t afford to let him win.

He’d make sure Misty was safe—even if Xavier, the traitor, had to guard her—then he’d get with Reid and Eric and figure out a way to find Oison and take him down. They couldn’t wait much longer—Oison might even now be preparing with his Fae friends to round up Shifters and start controlling them. Jace could help Shifters remove Collars, but it was problematic, and Graham liked the direct approach, and he knew Eric did too.

For now, he’d enjoy his moment with Misty. Graham nestled down into her warmth. He loved her with his entire body, the mate bond snaking around his heart.

He’d suspected the mate bond had been growing for months now, but he hadn’t let himself acknowledge it. He’d known it for certain when he’d helped Andrea cure Misty with the herbal poultice Andrea’s Fae father had sent with her. Graham had felt the warmth in his heart, the burn that had touched him at the same moment Misty had clutched her chest as though something burned her too.

Graham reveled in it now, closing his eyes and drawing in Misty’s scent.

Come to me . . .

Graham jerked awake. At least, he hoped to the Goddess he was awake.